Differences
by MaplePucks
Summary: When faced with attacking a 2P, especially one that looks like a loved one, the similarities stick out more then the differences. Prussia is about to find how important those differences are. PruCan, 2P!Canada, Prussia *mild violence, language*, goes along with my fic "Cupcakes and Roses".


**A/N This one goes along with "Cupcakes and Roses", it's Prussia's POV from what I'm calling "2P Day" where they attacked the world conference center. You don't have to read that one first, I'm just saying. Get some mild PruCan action! I now are that couple so much, they fit together perfectly! **  
**BTW I promise my next story won't be so violent...**

**Please read and review!**

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Prussia stood behind the door of a small room, somewhere on the first floor of the world conference center. He was shaking hard with fear, holding a sword in front of him. The sword was covered with fresh blood, he watched it drip to the floor creating a puddle. Prussia's hands trembled, the sword rattling with them, his breath quickening. Slowly, he tore his eyes from the sword to look up at the man he had just attacked.

It shouldn't have been that easy, it can't have been that easy, Prussia thought frantically. He had pushed the sword into the others man's abdomen without much thought or hesitation. Despite the one glaring fact, the one trouble Prussia could not ignore, the reason it was so complicated. This man and his lover, Canada, they shared the same face. True this man had subtle differences, his hair was darker and pulled back into a pony tail, his skin was tanner then Canada's but the most obvious difference was the eyes. Canada's were a beautiful purple while this man, he had a sinister red color to his. The differences were there but so were similarities that were causing Prussia to worry. That's why it shouldn't have been that easy to attack. Why had it been? What was going on? Prussia closed his eyes, hoping that when he opened them the man would be gone.

"Open your damn eyes hoser. What? Praying it's all dream? No wonder you're not a nation anymore." The man growled at him. His voice was almost the same, it was louder and angrier then Canada could ever be. He opened his eyes and cleared his throat.

"Tell me now! Who are you? Vhy do you look like mien Canada?" Prussia asked forcefully as he could. The imposter scoffed at him and moved closer, his left hand placed firmly on his wound.

"Now you got some balls, demanding eh? My name is Matthew Williams." He said. Prussia was shocked at the language, Canada would never say such things. The differences were becoming more apparent than the similarities but Prussia was still confused. He brandished the sword towards Matthew again.

"Ok, Matthew, Vhy do you like Canada?" he repeated. Matthew ignored the sword and moved in closer, Prussia took a step back. He may be injured, but he was still intimidating. That produced a laugh from Matthew.

"Technically, he looked like me. I was first, all of us were. You're just second best." Matthew said. Prussia's head started reeling, question after question zoomed through. First? No, he was first all the other nations he knew had been first. What was Matthew talking about? Why would he think he was first? All those questions, but one started to grow bigger and caused Prussia the most concern. The small word he had heard, maybe it was a mistake.

"Looked? Vat do you mean by that?" he asked, keeping the sword raised in front of him.

"Don't know English too well? Looked, its past tense as in once did but not anymore." Matthew said a cold smile forming after the words. Prussia started trembling harder. No, no this man didn't know what he was talking about. He was obliviously just trying to scare him, Prussia reasoned. Canada wasn't gone, Prussia had just spoke to him…last night. He had just overslept the meeting like usual, that had to be why he wasn't here now. No, it wasn't possible.

"You are lying. Mien Canada is fine, sleeping safe in his bed." Prussia said. Matthew wobbled slightly, the bleeding was getting worse, dripping from between his fingers. Prussia had run him all the way through, he was surprised he was still standing let alone making up lies about his lover being dead.

"Listen idiot, our England, we call him Arthur, killed him last night. Stabbed him a poisoned dagger then fed him poisoned cake. I watched the weakling die." Matthew said, letting a happier smile spread across his face. Prussia shook his head roughly. He refused to believe Matthew, Canada had to be alive. He was a nation, he couldn't be killed.

Prussia's thoughts turned to his brother, how easily that Italy imposter had slit his throat. He had been killed so quickly, so suddenly, so effectively. His brother was a strong nation and he just died, as simply as a human would have. Then Prussia thought of what he had seen happen to Russia. The China imposter had decapitated him so smoothly. Prussia remembered watching his scarf fall off his shoulders before the knees gave way. Those nations had been killed easily, who's to say the same fate did not come to Canada.

"Vhy are you lying to me? Canada may look weak but he is strong und able to defend himself!" Prussia spat back. Matthew rolled his eyes at him.

"Strong? That nation? Not from what I saw, those purple eyes got so dull and right before he died he said the most ridiculous thing," Matthew cleared his throat , "M-maple h-hockey" he repeated imitating Canada's quiet voice perfectly.

Prussia's heart felt like it had stopped. He knew, without a doubt that this man was telling the truth now. That phrase, Canada always said it when he was very hurt or very angry. Prussia was one of the few to know that, as Canada was always so guarded with his feeling around others. Prussia wanted to fall to his knees and cry out. He wanted to find his Canada, he needed to see him to make it real for him. Desperately, he wanted to still believe that Matthew was lying. His thoughts were interrupted by Matthew when he started coughing, gripping his wound harder. Prussia glanced at his sword and then back at Matthew.

"Birdie…" he whispered letting a lone tear fall. So soon, just saying that nickname out loud brought a bit of pain to his heart. Matthew was still struggling but managed to laugh.

"Oh yea, your 'Birdie' said something else before he died, 'B-bear, I-I love you'. Isn't that so adorable? Stupid nicknames for stupid people!" Matthew laughed. Prussia grew incredibly angry. Yes, the nicknames sounded stupid to others but to him and Canada they had meant everything.

He remembered the first time he had called Canada Birdie, the Canadian had given him the warmest smile he had ever seen. Canada had leaned into his ear and whispered Bear, kissing his neck until he reached his lips. Prussia remembered kissing him back, wrapping his arms tight around the other man's waist. It had been their first kiss and after that the nicknames had stuck.

Prussia wasn't sure what had made him call him Birdie. Perhaps it was because he reminded him of Gilbird. The smile he always had was carefree and beautiful, his yellow hair was always slightly unkempt like ruffled feathers, and his quiet voice like soft singing. Even the one little hair curl he had, it gave Prussia the impression of fancy plumage on a bird. Prussia also wasn't sure why Canada had called him Bear, he had assumed he reminded him of that polar bear he was always with. Prussia's silver white hair, pale white skin, and his sometimes ferocious attitude could all have been part of it. Now he would never have the chance to ask him, he thought bitterly as he listened to Matthew continue to laugh.

The laugh filled Prussia's head, it was a deep laugh, a laugh that was meant to hurt feelings. A laugh that was aimed at someone, at Canada. Matthew both laughed and coughed, he laughed even though blood oozed from his mouth. Prussia gripped sword harder, his knuckles were turning white. Anger filled him, he hadn't been this angry in a long time. As he stared at Matthew, the differences between him and Canada were all Prussia could see.

Without a word of warning, Prussia charged at Matthew. He flew across the room, sword aimed for his enemy's chest. Matthew didn't have time to react, when he looked up Prussia was on him. The look of surprise on his face gave Prussia some satisfaction.

As easily as it was the last time, this proved no different. Prussia felt the sword pierce the right side of his chest, ripping the clothes, felt the small pop of breaking skin. It slid in without much effort Prussia thought. He had forgotten what it felt like. The feeling of breaking ribs, the snapped bones scrapping along the shaft of the sword. Against an enemy on the battlefield it was exhilarating, against someone who looked like the person he loved it was sickening. Despite that fact, he continued to thrust the sword deeper into Matthew's chest. Prussia did so until the hilt touched Matthew's skin. Prussia smiled but let another tear fall from his eyes. Matthew coughed up even more blood and looked up at him. Prussia let go of the sword, staring at the handle, like it was a medal on his uniform.

"D-dumb fuck. P-proud of yourself e-eh?" he said trembling placing his hand on the handle protruding from his chest. Prussia gave him a cruel smile placing his own hand on Matthew's shoulder and wrapped his other hand around Matthews and the handle. Again without a word, he ripped the sword from Matthew. Blood gushed from behind the sword, covering his chest. He fell to the ground, gasping for air. Prussia dropped the sword and it clattered to the ground. Staring down at him, the similarities began to appear to Prussia again.

Matthew grabbed at his new wound, leaving the other one to bleed. The blood pooled around him, turning him into a blob of red with his Mountie uniform. Prussia looked on as Matthew eyes actually started to show a trace of fear. His haggard breaths from his now collapse lung rang loud and clear in Prussia's ears, for a brief moment he saw Canada again. He knelt down behind Matthew's head against his better judgment and raised him up so that his torso was resting against Prussia's bent legs. Matthew went to protest but Prussia placed his hand over his mouth, ignoring the hot blood.

"Do not fight me, you are close to death but there is nothing stopping me from snapping your neck." Prussia whispered, running his hand down the side of Matthew's face gently.

"D-do it t-then, h-hoser." Matthew mumbled from behind Prussia's hand. This did not surprise Prussia, he had expected him to say that. He reached his hand back to Matthew's pony tail and let down his hair. Matthew's hair was slightly longer then Canada's but it framed his face much the same way. Prussia took a deep breath and placed one hand on the top of his head, the other under his chin. Slowly, he leaned down to whisper into Matthew's ear.

"You shouldn't have laughed at mien Birdie." He whispered angrily. He twisted Matthew's head roughly, a loud snap rang out across the room. Matthew slumped against him, dead. Prussia set him down gently on the floor, his neck now set at a weird angle. His eyes lingered on the dead man until he could take anymore. The more he stared the more he saw Canada, in death Matthew seemed docile, quiet and had an almost gentle air around him. Now Prussia could definitely mistake the man for his Canada. In a weird sense, it brought him some closure.

A scream from the hallway grabbed his attention, the other nations needed his help. Prussia picked up his sword and rushed out of the room, not sparing Matthew another glance.


End file.
